


In Your Eyes

by WhispersInTheWing



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Car Accidents, Comatose Sam, Decapitation, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization, Human Castiel, Human Crowley, Hurt Dean Winchester, Injury Recovery, Major Character Injury, Permanent Injury, Protective Sam Winchester, Reapers, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Surgery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-07 16:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1906758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhispersInTheWing/pseuds/WhispersInTheWing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam, Dean and John have just barely escaped from Yellow Eyes with their lives, until a demon possessed truck driver slams into the Impala. Sam must now deal with two critically injured people on a deserted stretch of highway in the cold pouring rain in the middle of the night. Not everyone comes out of this unscathed. (This is an alternate storyline to what happens in the episode "In My Time Of Dying."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't Leave

**Author's Note:**

> Like it is stated in the summary, this is an alternate storyline to what happens during "In My Time Of Dying. I was inspired by fan art of Dean in a hospital bed, and from those fan arts this and a few other "theories" were born.

Sam doesn’t see the semi-truck barreling towards them. His eyes are focused on the road so he won’t be tempted to look in the rearview mirror for what’s probably the millionth time. The smell of blood is heavy in the air of the Impala and it chokes Sam, sitting thick on his tongue. He pushes his bangs from his face and grips the steering wheel tighter.  
“Hang on Dean,” Sam says aloud, the silence hanging like the sword of Damocles. “I’m gonna get you help. You just have to hang on.” Tears spring to his eyes, falling down his cheeks before he can think to stop them.  
“Sam,” Their father rasps from the passenger seat. John shifts, wincing at the pain that shoots up his leg.  
“Don’t worry dad, I’ll fix this. I’ll get you and Dean to the hospital, and then I’ll track down that yellow-eyed son of a bitch and shoot him in the head,” Sam grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white, the leather creaking.  
“Why didn’t you shoot the demon when you had the chance? All of this could’ve been finished if you had just had the balls to do it,” John admonishes, a cold gaze aimed at his youngest son.  
“Are you serious Dad? It possessed you! If I had shot it, you would’ve died!” Sam balks. The truck closes in, headlights bright as the sun.  
“I don’t care about my own life Sam. I would rather have been sacrificed if it meant getting justice for your mother!”  
The 18 wheeler slams into the passenger side of the Impala before Sam has a chance to reply. Glass shatters and metal crunches as the car bends around the grill of the truck, bending into an almost unrecognizable shape. Sam’s head smacks against the driver side window, knocking him unconscious.  
\----------------  
Sam is the first to come to. He groans, straightening in his seat. Blood trickles down his forehead, staining the collar of his shirt. Smoke rises from under the crumpled hood and causes Sam to cough, sides aching. The sound of a door slamming shut makes Sam stiffen even as he reaches for the Colt. There may only be one bullet left, but Sam isn’t about to start taking chances, not with his family’s lives on the line. The demon approaches the wreckage in the trucker meat suit he currently occupies; eyes black as night.  
“Look at this; the famous Winchesters brought down by 10 tons of machine. Such a pity that my master couldn’t be here to see the end for himself, but I’ll be sure to give him all the details,” The demon sneers. He pauses momentarily as Sam raises the Colt, aiming for the demon’s heart. Before Sam can pull the trigger, the demon flees his vessel in a plume of thick black smoke.  
Sam collapses against the seat as the demon disappears into the night. He takes a moment to catch his breath before swiveling to check on his father and brother. “Dad?” Sam asks as he shakes his father’s shoulder. He knows he shouldn’t shake him, but he can’t help himself. He needs his father to be awake and to tell him what to do; to tell Sam that everything is going to be alright.  
John doesn’t respond and it’s at that moment that Sam notices his father’s head bent at an impossible angle, blood dripping from his parted lips. “No,” Sam gasps, pulling in a shaky breath. “No dad, you can’t be dead! You can’t be! I need your help! I need you!” Sam reaches out a bloody hand, pressing it into the side of John’s neck. There’s no pulse, nothing but already cooling skin greeting him. Sam pulls his father’s broken body into his arms, burying his face in the fabric of John’s jacket and sobbing.  
Sam pulls his cellphone from his pocket, dialing 911 with shaky hands. He waits as the line rings, each one like a bell tolling.  
 _911, what’s your emergency?_ A voice finally comes over the line, the connection breaking up in the rain that begins to fall.  
“C-car accident; we were hit by a truck,” Sam stutters, shivering as the rain pelts his exposed skin.  
 _Are you injured?_  
“No, I don’t think so.”  
 _How many are injured?_  
“My brother is hurt bad. My father is dead.” Sam tries to choke back a sob that clogs his throat.  
 _What is your location sir?_  
“Highway 13, maybe 10 minutes east of Salvation.”  
 _Sir, paramedics are on the way. Do you want me to stay on the line with you until they arrive?_  
“Oh God, yes please. I’m scared,” Sam admits, bottom lip trembling as he fights to hold back tears.  
 _It’s going to be okay. What’s your name sweetheart?_  
“My name’s Sam.”  
 _Okay Sam, I’m going to ask you to do a few things for me, okay?_  
Sam nods adding a rushed, “okay” after remembering that the dispatcher can’t see him nodding his head.  
 _If you can safely get to your brother, check for a pulse. Then check if he’s breathing._  
Sam reluctantly releases his grip on his father’s body and shimmies until he’s draped over the front seat. He struggles to calm his own breathing so he can listen for Dean’s while he checks for a pulse. Sam presses two fingers into the side of Dean’s neck and cries out in relief at the weak but there pulse he finds. He can hear Dean wheeze as he takes in a breath.  
“He’s alive,” Sam cries into the phone. “His pulse is weak but it’s there and he’s breathing.”  
 _That’s good. Do you smell gas or see flames coming from the vehicle?_  
“No, no gas or flames. There is some smoke coming from the under the hood though.” Sam shimmies the rest of the way into the backseat and collapses next to Dean. He threads his fingers around Dean’s hand and squeezes gently, letting his brother know he’s not alone.  
 _I need you to calm down Sam._ The dispatcher says. Sam stills, not even realizing he’d been hyperventilating. Your brother needs you to stay calm.  
“I’m scared! I can’t do it! It’s cold and dark and raining … and I’m scared!” Sam voices tearfully, fear gnawing away at his gut.  
“Sammy,” A raspy whisper catches Sam’s attention. He looks over into the emerald green gaze of his brother.  
“Dean!” Sam exclaims, fresh tears springing to his eyes. “I thought I’d lost you.”  
“You know I wouldn’t do that.” Dean shifts higher in the seat, wincing as the action tugs at the steadily bleeding wounds on his chest.  
 _Your brother is conscious?_ The dispatcher’s comforting voice filters over the line.  
“Yeah, he’s awake.” Sam can’t keep the smile out of his own voice. He wraps an arm around Dean’s shoulders and pulls his brother into his side.  
Dean rests his head on Sam’s chest, breathing in the scent of his younger brother and committing it to memory. He can feel himself starting to sink under the heavy blackness that sits at the edge of his vision. Dean knows he needs to tell Sam he loves him before he loses his chance to.  
“Sammy,” Dean begins, tipping his head back to look his brother in the eye. “I’m proud of us. We’ve done good things with our lives. You’re a good kid; don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I love you little brother. I will always love you Sammy. Never forget that.”  
Tears shine in Sam’s eyes, blurring his vision. He blinks them away quickly, not wanting anything to get in the way of seeing his brother’s face. Dean’s eyes start to drift closed. “Don’t do this Dean. Please … please don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you. You have to stay awake. I’ve already lost mom and Jessica, I can’t lose you too. Please Dean! I love you too man.” Sam clutches Dean tighter, body shaking with sobs that cut through the night air.  
 _Sam, are you still there? The ambulance is almost there, just a few minutes away. Stay with me okay?_


	2. Chapter 2

Sam hears the sirens in the distance, but can’t stop the sobs that rip their way from his throat. He registers that the dispatcher is still talking to him, trying to calm him down, but Sam can’t reply through the tears. He can feel Dean slipping away slowly, his breathing becoming shallower and his skin getting clammy.  
“Dammit Dean, stay with me! Don’t you dare leave me!” Sam shouts. “You’re all I’ve got left Dean!”  
Sam drops the phone from his hand as a sudden blinding pain surges within his stomach. He cries out, collapsing against the backseat as he tries to breathe through the discomfort. Sam reaches down, searching for anything that could be the cause of the intense ache. Finding nothing, Sam focuses his attention back on Dean. His brother’s eyes flicker open and seek out Sam’s hazel eyes in the darkness of the car.  
“Sammy, you’re hurt,” Dean states in concern. “What’s wrong? Is it your stomach?” Even lying in a growing pool of his own blood, Dean puts Sam’s well-being before his own.  
“I’m fine Dean. Who cares if I’m hurt? Your health is what’s important right now. So just stop thinking about me for five seconds and think about yourself!” Sam shouts in exasperation. He doesn’t mean to get angry at Dean; it just kind of comes out before he can stop it. “Besides, it’s probably just a couple broken ribs.”  
Dean falls silent, the short exchange sapping what little energy he had. He squeezes Sam’s hand as the sirens crescendo and a myriad of First Respond vehicles descend on the wreckage. Sam watches a paramedic jump from one of the two ambulances and rush towards them.  
She is a petite woman with fiery red hair who can’t be much older than Sam. “My name is Charlie. Are you injured?” She introduces herself as she shines a flashlight into the backseat of the Impala.  
Sam nods slowly. “My brother is hurt badly. I think I just broke a couple ribs.”  
Charlie tries to open the door, but the frame has jammed. “Get the jaws! I got two critically injured. The door is jammed; frame’s all bent up,” Charlie shouts to the firefighters. She turns back to the boys and leans in through the busted out window. “Don’t worry; we’re going to get you out of here. What’s your name?”  
“I’m Sam and this is Dean,” Sam replies with a wheeze. It’s suddenly hard for him to breathe and he panics. “I can’t breathe!”  
“Just try to stay calm Sam. One of your ribs might have punctured a lung. Take as deep of breaths as you can, okay?”  
Sam nods again, the pain in his chest too severe to try to talk through. He tightens his grip on Dean’s hand, feeling a weak squeeze in return.  
Charlie glances into the front seat. “Sam, Dean, I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go check on your dad. Hang in there.”  
“Okay,” Dean mutters, coming back into consciousness at the sound of his name. Sam doesn’t have the heart to tell Dean that dad had died on impact, the force of it snapping his neck like a twig. Sam knows that the information may very well be the thing that makes Dean give up and pass on.  
Charlie is able to get the driver side door open and she crawls inside. She presses two fingers into John’s neck, searching for a pulse. Her face falls when she is unable to find one, and is about to pull her hand back when a weak beat flutters beneath her fingers. “I got another critically injured! Bring the C collars and backboards stat!” Charlie yells over the now driving rain.  
Sam can’t believe his ears. There’s no way his dad could still be alive. The rain must be playing tricks on his mind. “H-he’s alive?” Sam stutters, finally finding his voice.  
“Yes Sam, your father’s alive, but his vitals are weak. We need to get you all out of here now,” Charlie replies as she works to stabilize John’s neck. Her hands shake as she works, her instincts telling her that this is more than a simple broken neck.  
An older woman jogs up to the wreck, arms laden with collars and backboards.  
“Here are the collars Charlie. I’ll stabilize the back passengers,” The woman states as she sets the equipment on the hood of the Impala. She grabs a collar and leans into the car. “My name’s Ellen; I’m a trauma physician at the hospital. I’m going to put what’s called a cervical or C collar on you to keep your head and neck from moving around,” She explains to Dean as she inclines him forward slightly to get the collar in place.  
A choked moan of pain bubbles from Dean’s lips, tears leaking from behind his closed eyes. He squeezes Sam’s hand harder and grits his teeth.  
“I know you’re hurting sweetheart, but it’s going to be okay.” Ellen’s hand is firm and reassuring on Dean’s leg. She notes the long claw marks on his chest with a barely audible gasp. “Where did these wounds come from? You look like you were attacked by an animal.”  
“Y-yeah,” Sam quickly remarks. “We were camping in the woods. Dean went to a nearby stream to wash up; he was only gone for a few minutes when he screamed. It … it was a wolf.” The lie slips easily off Sam’s tongue like turpentine. Lying had become second nature to Sam since rejoining his father and brother on the hunt, and he hardly noticed it anymore. He hopes Ellen will buy his story. With a grim nod, it seems like she does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I made Charlie a paramedic and Ellen a trauma doctor. And before you ask, yes sometimes trauma doctors go to the scene with the paramedics. (At least as far as I know lol. I based that off of what I saw on The Night Shift) All of this will make sense as the story progresses. I promise :)


	3. Chapter 3

Ellen grabs her stethoscope from around her neck and listens to Dean’s breathing and heartbeat. “Those wolves are starting to become a real menace around these parts, especially in the spring during mating season. The males get aggressive and attack just about anything that moves,” Ellen voices with a sigh. After a tense moment, she nods to herself. “Okay Dean, your heart sounds good, I don’t hear any murmurs. It sounds like there may be some fluid in your lungs; breath sounds are slightly decreased on the left side. Were you wearing your seatbelt?”  
Dean tries shaking his head, but the collar keeps him from moving. “N-no, I don’t think so. Am I gonna die?”  
Ellen grabs Dean’s free hand in hers and caught his gaze. “Sweetheart, we are going to do everything we can for you, your brother and your father. But I need you to stay calm. You are not going to die.”  
“I need some help up here Ellen!” Charlie shouts over her shoulder.  
Ellen wiggles back out the window, brushing bits of glass from her jacket. She bends down and looks at Sam and Dean. “I’ll be right up front helping Charlie with your dad; just holler if you need help.”  
She waits for Sam’s clipped nod before turning and circling the car. Ellen is able to snake her arms between the semi and the Impala. It’s a tight squeeze and she’s standing on the only part of the truck’s bumper that’s still intact, but she’s in. She holds John’s head still while Charlie clambers out and grabs a C collar.  
“What do we got here?” Ellen asks. She knows that it has to be bad if Charlie is asking for another set of hands. Charlie is more than capable of triaging someone in the field; Ellen had been the one to train her on her very first day.  
“I think it’s an internal decapitation. There’s a gap between the base of the skull and the spine,” Charlie rattles off as she places the collar carefully around John’s neck. Ellen pales; internal decapitations are not only rare, but extremely tricky.  
“Okay, so what we need to do next is get him on a backboard. I’m going to come around to get a better angle. It’s a bit hard to get him on the backboard from here.” Ellen slips her arms back out and around to the other side of the car. She grabs a backboard and places it on the driver’s seat.  
Charlie crawls into the car, situating herself on the dashboard. With Ellen’s assistance, they lay John down on the board and strap him securely on it. “Let’s get him loaded into the ambulance,” Charlie remarks, breathing out a sigh of relief.  
“Hang in there dad. Dean and I will be right there with you when you wake up. I-I love you dad,” Sam declares as Charlie and Ellen pull John from the car and hurry to pass the backboard to the other pair of paramedics near one of the waiting ambulances. He doesn’t know if his father hears or understands him, but Sam needed to at least put the words out into the universe. Dean clutches Sam’s hand at his brother’s words, fresh tears falling down his bruised and bloodied face.   
The firefighters arrive with the jaws and set to work on cutting the back door open. Sam shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over Dean, protecting his face from the sparks the saw throws off. The sharp sound of tearing metal fills the air and makes Dean’s head pound.  
“I’m sorry Sam,” Dean remarks.  
“Sorry for what?” Sam can’t figure out what Dean is apologizing for. It’s not like the accident was his fault; that lied solely on the yellow- eyed bastard that started the whole thing 22 years ago.  
“I’m sorry for dragging you back into this life. Back at Stanford, I watched you for a few days. I saw how happy you were; with your classes and with … with Jess. At first I was angry at you. I was angry that you were happy. I wanted to go there and find you miserable and regretting that you decided to go at all. But you weren’t miserable! You were happy! You were so fucking happy and I ruined it! I ruined your perfectly normal life by asking you to come with me to find dad! I’m sorry I made you come with me Sam. I didn’t know what else to do! Dad had left me at some motel in some nameless town without so much as a note as to where he was going. I was alone and scared! I didn’t want to be alone! Don’t leave me alone again Sammy, please.” Dean sniffles, wiping the blood and tears from his face.  
“Dean,” Sam begins, “You have _nothing_ to be sorry for. You think my life at Stanford was happy? You think it was perfect? It wasn’t Dean! I _was_ miserable; more than you think. I had nightmares every night about you getting hurt or dying. I had nightmares that some police officer would show up at class to tell me that your body had been found in a ditch or an abandoned house somewhere. I wanted to call you and ask if you’d come pick me up but I knew that dad would tell you no. I knew he would tell you that you’re better off without me; that we were all better off apart. I missed you so much Dean.” Sam hiccups as a sob wrenches from his throat.  
The last of the frame is sawed through, and the back door clatters to the ground with a crash. The firefighters haul the door out of the way, and after checking that Sam and Dean are still alive, they take the saw back to the truck.  
“Sam … I’m scared,” Dean whimpers. “I don’t wanna die, Sammy.” Dean’s voice grows fainter and fainter, until it trails off with a moan.  
“Dean?” Sam probes, shaking his shoulder. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this Dean, not now.” He grips Dean’s hand, praying for that reassuring squeeze back. Dean’s hand is limp in Sam’s grasp, which only causes Sam to panic further. Sam looks over his shoulder in hopes that Charlie or Ellen will be jogging back towards them. He sees them loading John into an ambulance.  
“HELP US! ELLEN! CHARLIE! SOMEBODY HELP US! PLEASE!” Sam isn’t sure if they will be able to hear him over the pounding rain, but he knows he has to try. “SOMEBODY HELP!”  
Charlie pauses suddenly, head turning back towards the car. _“HELP US!”_ She hears Sam’s voice underneath the white noise of the rain. She nudges Ellen’s arm and gestures behind them. They run back to the wreckage, grabbing a backboard from the top of the car. Charlie sets the backboard flat on the ground outside the back seat of the car. Ellen takes out her stethoscope, checking Dean’s heartbeat and breathing again.  
“His vitals are dropping! Breath sounds are absent on the left side and diminished on the right. His heart rate is stuttering; there must be blood in his chest cavity.” Ellen fires off Dean’s vitals. Sam feels the breath leave his lungs in a sob and blackness creeps into the edges of his vision. He blinks the blackness away, focusing on Dean.  
Charlie and Ellen lift Dean from Sam’s arms and lay him on the board. “I need to put in a chest tube now or he won’t make it to the hospital.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since I last updated! Been busy with a new job! but here it is! ENJOY!

Charlie jumps to her feet and races back to the ambulances.

“Hang in there Dean! You can’t give up now!” Sam cries. “Do it for mom! She doesn’t want to see you yet Dean. It’s too soon for you to go to her. You have to stay here with me!” Sam is well aware that he’s rambling now, but he’s unable to stop the flood of words that tumble from his lips.

Charlie runs back with a chest tube kit in her hands. She hands it to Ellen and goes to her knees on Dean’s other side. She cuts away Dean’s shirt with a pair of scissors, peeling it gently away from the gashes that are still steadily leaking blood. After Dean’s shirt is out of the way, Charlie pulls a flashlight from her jacket pocket and shines the beam onto the expanse of skin closest to Ellen.

Ellen palms a scalpel from the kit and makes an incision along Dean’s left side. She inserts the chest tube and immediately leans back as dark blood spurts from the end of the tube. Dean jolts on the backboard, sucking in a ragged breath.

Sam cries out in relief as his brother is brought back to life in front of his eyes. “Dean! Don’t scare me like that again!” Sam grasps Dean’s hand as he reaches towards his brother. “You gotta pull through, man. Remember what you used to tell me when I was little? There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you.”

Charlie and Ellen stands, lifting the backboard between them. “We need to get him loaded up now,” Charlie remarks.

Sam watches the paramedics rush Dean over to the other waiting ambulance. Sam begins to panic as Dean is taken further and further away from him. He can’t stand being apart from Dean when Dean can’t defend himself because he’s injured.

“DEAN! DEAN! DEAN!” Sam shouts. The ambulance carrying their father has already pulled away and Sam can faintly hear the siren fading into the distance. Sam is in the grips of a full blown panic attack and he feels like he’s going to pass out.

\-----------------------------------

“Sam, I need you to calm down. You’re having a panic attack.” Ellen’s voice filters in through the rushing water that fills Sam’s ears. He looks up towards her, her form silhouetted by the rain. “We’re going to get you out of here but I need you to trust me. Do you trust me, Sam?”

Sam nods tiredly. “I trust you Ellen. I trust you.”

Ellen grabs the last C collar from the hood of the Impala and snaps it into place around Sam’s neck. “This is just a precaution until we can get you to the hospital. I know you want to be with your brother, so I’m going to need you to keep calm so I can work on getting you stabilized. You understand?”

“Yeah, I understand,” Sam replies, closing his eyes against the headache that had begun to form in the side of his head. “M’head hurts.”

“You’re probably going to have quite a knot there from hitting it on the window. You’ll have a killer headache for a few days. You may have a concussion too, but we won’t know for sure until the doc checks you over. Just stay calm for me, okay?” Ellen’s voice is steady and it’s what Sam imagines his mother might sound like if she were alive. Sam finds himself being able to stay calm and feels the throbbing in his head recede.

Ellen goes to work quickly, maneuvering Sam’s large body out of the backseat and onto the remaining backboard. Charlie joins her soon afterwards and between the two of them, they lift the backboard and race towards the ambulance where Dean is.

It takes every iota of resolve Sam has in his body to keep from jumping up from the backboard as he catches sight of Dean lying motionless on a stretcher. The bright lights in the ambulance make Dean’s injuries that much worse, and the paleness of his usually sun-kissed skin that much stark. “Dean?” Sam asks nervously. “Dean, can you hear me?”

Dean reaches out a bloody hand at the sound of Sam’s voice. Sam grabs Dean’s hand and squeezes it, letting his brother know without words that everything is going to be okay; that he is there and isn’t going anywhere. A twitch of his lips is all Dean can manage, but it’s more than enough for Sam, who lets out a sob of relief that his brother is still with him.

Charlie climbs into the back of the ambulance and sits beside Dean’s stretcher. Ellen shuts the doors and climbs into the driver’s seat. She throws the ambulance into Drive and makes a sharp U-turn, sirens blaring and lights flashing as they race towards the hospital. Every so often, Charlie checks Dean’s vitals and scribbles them down on a notepad.

“What happened to the driver of the truck?” Charlie asks, breaking the silence. “The cab was empty when we showed up.”

“I-I think he ran off. I don’t really know. I never saw him,” Sam replies with a groan. “I didn’t even see the truck; it came out of nowhere. I feel so stupid!”

Charlie shushed him softly. “Don’t talk like that Sam. This wasn’t your fault. I’ll make sure we find the driver and bring him to justice. He can’t hide forever.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a short chapter, but I really wanted to give you guys something. I hope you enjoy it regardless!

“Thank you Charlie.” Sam looks over at Dean. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Dean. We’ve been through so much together; he’s my rock. We lost our mother when I was just a baby, and Dean has been there for me ever since. He and my father are all the family I have.”

Charlie listens as Sam’s voice cracks; memories finding their way to the surface. “Well now you can be there for Dean. You are all very lucky to be alive; this stretch of road has claimed more than its share of lives. But you have nothing to worry about, our hospital has the best trauma department in the state.”

Sam can’t stop the flood of tears that fall down his cheeks. As much as Charlie is trying to be comforting, Sam knows that their chances of survival are pretty slim. “What about my dad, Charlie? He … he was practically dead.”

“I’m not going to lie to you Sam,” Charlie begins, grabbing Sam’s hand in hers. “Your father suffered what’s called an internal decapitation. It’s when the skull is detached from the top of the spine, and only the soft tissue is holding everything together. It can be very tricky to treat, but it is treatable and your father will be in good hands. Dr. Cole is the head of our neurology department and is very good at his job. But you need to focus on yourself. You’re in shock, so you aren’t really feeling the full extent of your injuries, but you are injured Sam. And you took quite a knock to your noggin. You need to calm down.”

Sam nods, closing his eyes to take a deep breath. He prays to whatever God or entity is listening, for his father and brother to be okay. He needs them to be okay because he knows that if they die, he dies too. He won’t be able to go on without his family. Dean and John are the only things keeping him together anymore; now that Jess had died the same way Mary did.

“Sammy,” Dean rasps as he surfaces into consciousness. “You … gotta calm down, dude. You’re embarrassing yourself in front of the cute medic.” Even with Dean clinging to life, he still manages to be his cocky, teasing self. “We’re gonna … be … okay. I-I promise.”

Charlie smiles softly, taken aback by the love she sees between the two brothers. “How are you feeling Dean?”

Dean doesn’t turn his gaze from Sam as he speaks. “My … chest hurts like a son of a bitch, and m’shoulder too.”

“It looks like you dislocated your shoulder pretty badly. Don’t worry, we’re almost to the hospital,” Charlie replies as she takes Dean’s vitals again. “So where are you two from?”

“Lawrence, Kansas. It’s where Dean and I were born. We were passing through here on our way to see the Grand Canyon.” Sam’s voice was soft but steady; his gaze never left Dean’s. “We’ve never been before.”

“Well now you both have something to look forward too after you recover. After experiencing something like a car accident, it makes everyday things that much more special.” Charlie’s voice holds a note of sadness, and Sam knows that she experienced tragedy recently.  
\-------------------------


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since this thing was updated, real life kind of snuck up on me with some medical issues last month and I was in so much pain I couldn't type at all. But I'm all better now and have a brand new chapter for you lovelies to read! Enjoy!

The ambulance speeds into the parking lot, tires screeching as it stops in front of the ER doors. Charlie throws open the ambulance doors and jump out. Sam hears Ellen hop out of the driver’s seat and soon finds himself being rushed inside. Sam sees a commotion in one of the trauma rooms and knows that it’s the doctors trying to save his father. Sam’s eyes find Ellen’s as she steers the stretcher into an empty trauma room.

“Ellen, will you make sure Dean is okay? I-I need them to know that I want to be with him. I need them to let me see him before anything happens. Please,” Sam pleads, clutching Ellen’s hand tightly.

“I’ll let them know Sam. Just let the doctors do their job and you’ll be seeing Dean in no time, okay?” Ellen responds, squeezing Sam’s hand as doctors rush into the room.

“23 year old male, driver of a car that was t-boned by a semi, was wearing his seatbelt. Responsive, complaining of upper and lower abdominal pain on the right side. 2 inch laceration on his scalp and possible concussion; broken ribs and could be in shock.” Ellen rattles off before heading to the other trauma rooms to check on Dean and John.

“What’s your name son?” The doctor asks as he begins to check Sam’s pupils.

“My name is Sam. Where are my father and brother? Where’s Dean?” Sam panics, trying to get up from the gurney.

“Sam, I’m going to need you to calm down for me okay? We’ll find out about your family as soon as we get you stable. I’m Dr. Ragosa and I’m gonna take good care of you.” Dr. Ragosa places a gentle hand on Sam’s shoulder and waits for Sam to meet his gaze before getting back to work. “Where are you hurting the most Sam?”

“My stomach is killing me, my head too. My family and I are from out of town. We were on a road trip to the Grand Canyon when we were hit. I just need to know they’re okay,” Sam rambles, tears falling down his cheeks unnoticed. His head swims, his vision blurs momentarily and Sam is pretty sure he’s about to pass out or be sick.

Ellen runs back into the room just in time to calm Sam’s fears. “Sam, your father is stable and they’re taking him up to surgery right now. They’re still working on stabilizing Dean, but he’s doing okay. I told the doctors to let you see him before they take him up to the OR,” Ellen says softly, grabbing Sam’s hand to ground him. “I have to go now sweetie, but don’t worry. You and your family are in great hands. I’ll keep you all in my prayers.”

Sam watches Ellen leave, and the doctors and nurses swarm around him. They cut his clothes from his body, but Sam can’t spare the time to feel embarrassed. Not when his brother is just across the hall, probably scared out of his mind and clinging to life. A nurse slips an IV into his arm and starts pain medicine, but Sam doesn’t even feel the pinch.

“That’s it Sam. Just keeping breathing,” Dr. Ragosa commands as he presses down on Sam’s abdomen, drawing a scream from the youngest Winchester’s throat. “Right upper and lower quadrants are rigid. Close the wound on his scalp and get him up to Imaging; I want a CT scan and MRI stat.”

“No wait! Dean, I need to see Dean! He hates hospitals and he’s probably freaking out right now. I have to let him know everything’s okay; to tell him to let the doctors do their job. He needs me!” Sam shouts, struggling to get up off the table. The doctors hold him down while a nurse administers a sedative. A sob gets caught in Sam’s throat as he feels himself slipping into unconsciousness. “Dean!”

\-----------------------

“Sammy? Come on Sammy, I know you’re in there. Please wake up,” Dean’s worried voice trickles in through the fog surrounding Sam’s head. He tries to open his eyes, but they’re too heavy. He wants to wake up and make sure that Dean is really there, and not just some figment of his damaged imagination. But he can’t.


	7. The Lost Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoa, sorry about the super long sudden hiatus for this story. I didn't post cause I didn't think I had enough for a good solid chapter, but I didn't realize where I had ended the last chapter and now I have TONS of material to post! So expect a good two or three chapters!
> 
> also, this is about to get super confusing as I switch between a few POVs, but stick with it!
> 
> Much Love, Stacey

“Sammy? Come on Sammy, I know you’re in there. Please wake up,” Dean’s worried voice trickles in through the fog surrounding Sam’s head. He tries to open his eyes, but they’re too heavy. He wants to wake up and make sure that Dean is really there, and not just some figment of his damaged imagination. But he can’t. Sam sinks back down into the blackness, Dean’s voice growing fainter.

Dean swipes tears from his face as he holds his brother’s hand. Three months have passed since the Winchesters were brought to the University of Kansas trauma center clinging to life. Their father is downstairs in physical therapy recovering from the internal decapitation that nearly took him from his sons’ lives. Dean recovered amazingly from his injuries, though he still hasn’t regained full range of motion in the shoulder that was dislocated. The only one who hasn’t recovered, or even woken up, is Sam.

“Sammy,” Dean whispers, squeezing Sam’s hand tighter. “You have to wake up. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose my baby brother. We’re not a family without you. You’re the glue that’s been holding us together and without you we’re falling apart.”

Dr. Ragosa knocks on the doorframe before entering the room. “Hello Dean. We’ve gotten the latest test results for Sam. I think it’s time we talked about long-term care options.”

Dean shakes his head, refusing to look the doctor in the eye. “Sam doesn’t need long-term care because he’s going to wake up any day now,” Dean remarks, running fingers through Sam’s hair. “I’m tired of you people trying to talk me into pulling the plug on my brother! I won’t do it! GET OUT!”

“Dean, you need to think about what Sam would want,” Dr. Ragosa explains, trying to calm the other man down.

“I am thinking about what Sam would want! He would want a chance to fight! He would want a chance to beat this and wake up! He’s going to wake up!” Dean shouts.

Dr. Ragosa puts up his hands. “Dean, you need to let me explain. Sam’s latest scans show very little brain activity, even less than when he was initially brought in. The swelling in his brain has gotten worse. We’ve had to put him on a ventilator because the signal from his brain to his lungs isn’t working anymore. Soon we’ll have to put him on more and more machines as his body continues to shut down. There has already been a decrease in kidney function and it’s only a matter of time before he’ll need to be on dialysis. You would be giving your brother mercy by letting him pass on his own. There’s not much more we can do here. We already went and removed a section of his skull to allow the swelling a place to go, but unfortunately that hasn’t seemed to help much. I’m sorry Dean.” Dr. Ragosa turns towards the door. “I’ll give you some time to process the information I’ve just given you, and I’ll be back up later to talk to you and your father.”

“GET OUT!” Dean grabs the nearest object, a box of Kleenex, and throws it at the doctor’s retreating form. He wants to scream, to damn the heavens and God for keeping his brother from waking up. Dean is a wreck without Sam by his side. His dreams are haunted by Sam’s screams of pain in the ER, and he often finds himself wandering the corridors in the middle of the night like a phantom. He thinks about what Dr. Ragosa told him, and what the doctors have told him since they arrived at the rural hospital.

Sam oddly is the worst injured out of the three of them. Three broken ribs, one of which punctured a lung. A bruised liver and right kidney, and a perforated spleen which ultimately was removed. The sac around his heart had slowly filled with blood as they sat in the wreckage waiting for medics and his heart had stopped twice in the Emergency Room alone. A severe skull fracture which accounted for the blinding headache Sam had complained of. Something called a subdural hematoma and massive swelling in his brain. And now beginning stage lung and renal failure. Dean knows the doctors are only doing what they think is best for Sam, but he can’t stand the thought of pulling the plug on his brother.

“Sammy, I don’t know if you can hear me in there. I don’t know if you’re even in there at all or if I’m just talking to an empty shell. But if by some chance you’re there, I want you to know I will never let them pull the plug on you. You’re a fighter Sammy. I know it and dad knows it, now you need to let the doctors know. Please don’t leave me,” Dean whispers, tears clogging his throat.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I apologize for the hiatus, but this is the first story I've ever really written in present tense, and it is a lot harder than I expected it to be. And it's doubly hard with the changing POV's, but those are essential to the story.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> -S

Sam paces the small stretch of hallway outside Dean’s room. He is supposed to be back in his own room in bed recovering, but Sam heard alarms going off from Dean’s room and raced over. He can hear bits and pieces of the doctor shouting orders from inside the room. It has something to do with Dean’s heart and Sam feels bile rise in his throat. His brother can’t die, not like this. A doctor calling Sam’s name pulls him from his thoughts.

“Sam?” Dr. Ragosa begins as he leaves Dean’s room. Sam stops in his tracks, whirling around to face the doctor.

“Is—how’s Dean? Is he … is he dead?” Sam asks, unable to hide the cracking of his voice.

Dr. Ragosa sighs, running a hand through his short black hair. “No, Dean is not dead. He has developed an infection in his chest that has weakened his heart. His heart stopped and it took us almost a full minute to revive him. Unfortunately there is no way of knowing what kind of brain damage, if any, he’s sustained at this point. I wish I had better news for you Sam. You can go in and see him now.”

Sam races into the room, stopping short at the sight of Dean looking so small in his bed. He’s never seen his brother so defeated and broken down. Sam moves to Dean’s bedside and drops his tired body into the chair. “Dean, I don’t know if you can hear me but I just … I wanted you to know how much I love you. I couldn’t have asked for a better big brother and I wish I had been a better little brother growing up.”

“Sam? Are you okay? Dr. Ragosa said you were in here,” John says softly. Sam turns to see his father hobbling into the room, leaning heavily on a cane.

Sam shakes his head, tears streaming anew down his face. “The doctor says that Dean has an infection and his heart stopped. His brain was without oxygen for a minute and they don’t know how much damage it sustained. I’m scared dad. What if Dean dies?”

John limps over to the empty chair next to Sam, sitting down heavily. He scrubs a hand over his beard. “I’m scared too Sam. Even as a hunter I always thought I’d be the first to go; that you and Dean would give me a hunter’s send-off and move on. I don’t know what I’d do if my boys were gone. You and Dean are everything to me,” John mutters, voice thick with unshed tears. “But Dean is strong; you both are. He’ll fight through this and come out the other end in one piece. We just have to believe that.”

John looks over at his eldest son lying prone in a hospital bed. He himself was having a hard time believing his own words. Without Dean, he would eventually drive Sam away and then he’d have lost both of his sons.

"You have to pull through Dean. We need you here with us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh, sorry for such a short chapter!
> 
> -S


End file.
